A Hero's Reason (2)
The voice was cracked, carrying a lonely echo.
At that moment, one of the guards who had followed stepped forward, his eyes filled with suspicion.
“Young Master, be careful. He claims to be a wanderer, yet he wears a mask. Doesn’t that seem suspicious?”
The guard narrowed his eyes, his hand resting lightly on his sword hilt.
Then he began his sharp interrogation.
“You there, why do you go about wearing a mask? Is there some reason you must hide your face?”
As his subordinate grew agitated, Seomun Jin-gang let out a short sigh and raised a hand to stop him.
“That is far too rude. We have no right to question a man’s face as he passes through these lands.”
The guard reluctantly stepped back, though his gaze remained sharp.
At that instant, the masked man silently raised his hand and slowly removed his mask.
The flickering campfire illuminated his face.
What was revealed beneath was skin melted and twisted, cheeks deeply scarred, and a nose that had vanished without a trace.
It was a horrific burn mark so severe that even the battle-hardened guards swallowed dryly at the sight.
One eye was faintly closed, while the other gleamed with an oddly clear light.
Faced with that dreadful visage, the guard who had been ready to draw his sword in excitement faltered and retreated a step.
The man simply put his mask back on and spoke.
“Satisfied now?”
“……”
Silence fell over the area.
Even the crackle of the flames seemed to quiet as everyone stared wordlessly at his face.
Without hesitation, Seomun Jin-gang clasped his hands in a deep salute and bowed at the waist.
“I have been discourteous. It seems our wariness has offended you. I offer my sincere apologies.”
Seomun Jin-gang did not stop at words alone.
He silently opened his pouch and took out a small bottle of liquor, placing it by the fire.
“We brought this from afar, and there is still some left. Please, ease your mind. The night is long, and the fire can be shared.”
Only then did the wanderer’s lips curve upward ever so slightly.
Without a word, he lifted the bottle above his head, then brought it to his mouth and drank deeply.
Glug, glug.
Seomun Jin-gang offered another solemn salute.
“We have troubled you. Rest well.”
Seomun Jin-gang and the caravan guards returned to their positions.
The guard who had been checking the surroundings also came back.
“There are no signs of an ambush. It seems he is alone.”
“As expected?”
With that, all suspicion toward the masked man vanished.
“Pitch the tents. We will camp here for the night.”
They needed to finish setting up camp before it grew too late.
The fire burned quietly as the surrounding darkness deepened.
The Seomun Caravan set up camp on one side of the hill.
The horses grazed and calmed, while the caravan members wiped sweat from their faces under the firelight.
Tents were raised, rations divided, and the day’s work came to an end.
Yet the atmosphere was far from relaxed.
All eyes turned coldly toward the masked wanderer sitting quietly by the fire.
“Young Master, sharing a fire with a man like that is far too dangerous.”
Old Nokgye approached quietly and spoke.
“We know nothing about him—neither who he is nor where he came from. Even if he is a wanderer, we cannot trust someone who hides such a face.”
The other guards nodded silently in agreement.
But Seomun Jin-gang calmly set down his cup and slowly turned his gaze.
“He has shown no hostility. He merely sits quietly by the fire. It was we who were rude. We.”
Seomun Jin-gang’s voice was gentle yet firm.
“And what we should be worrying about right now is not a single masked wanderer, but the entire situation in Hebei.”
Finishing his words, he looked at the map spread inside the tent and fell into thought.
Hebei was unstable.
Officially, there were no major disturbances, yet the servants of various sects brought different rumors.
In the remote northern regions, clashes between sects had occurred, and there were whispers of a sect killing over a stolen martial arts manual.
Though they had assigned twice the usual number of guards, Seomun Jin-gang could not feel at ease.
Hebei was always like this—outwardly calm, yet with blades breathing beneath the surface.
“For tonight, let us rest well. If we must fight after a proper rest, we will have the strength for it, will we not?”
“……Understood.”
Thus the night deepened.
The night watch stood in pairs, taking turns, while outside the camp, only the chirping of insects and the occasional snort of horses broke the quiet.
Then, at some point—
As if by a lie, the once-loud chorus of insects ceased all at once.
“……”
An eerie silence.
The sentry, half-drowsing yet on guard, instantly sensed something wrong.
“What is it?”
The guard hurriedly pricked his ears.
From beyond the grass came a rustling sound.
And then, the sound of trees breaking.
“Who goes there!”
The sentry shouted.
At the same time, dozens of shadows emerged from the darkness.
“Ambush!”
The cry rang out, and people scrambled out of their tents in a panic.
As everyone rushed about, swords in hand and whips cracking against the horses, Seomun Jin-gang quickly stepped forward.
“Everyone, stay calm!”
His voice was short and decisive.
“Draw your swords, but do not strike first! Do not break formation!”
The men descending from the mountain wore mismatched armor and clothing.
One wore a horned helmet, another bore a scar near his eye, and a massive man carried a gigantic steel club over his shoulder.
Among them, the experienced Old Nokgye fixed his gaze on the man with the horned helmet.
“The Fierce Horned Ghost! How is he here?”
Seomun Jin-gang asked.
“You know him?”
“He is a Green Forest chieftain. He leads the Blood Cloud Stronghold on Mount Mangun—a Superlative master.”
The Green Forest was a gathering of bandits, yet their martial prowess could never be underestimated.
Their supreme leader was a Transcendent master, and their chieftains were Superlative or Peak experts.
Provoking the Green Forest could reduce even a respectable sect to ashes.
Moreover, the Fierce Horned Ghost was renowned for both his exceptional skill and his brutality.
Seomun Jin-gang swallowed dryly.
Our luck is foul tonight.
The bandits had surrounded the Seomun Caravan.
Seomun Jin-gang raised a hand lightly toward the Fierce Horned Ghost and spoke.
“Greetings. I am Seomun Jin-gang, in charge of the Seomun Caravan. I did not expect to meet the heroes of the mountain like this.”
Though bandits, escorts, and merchants appeared to be natural enemies on the surface, they actually existed in a symbiotic relationship.
Escorts needed bandits to earn money, and bandits relied on escorts for a steady supply of goods and coin.
They provoked one another but never crossed the unspoken line—an old, unwritten rule.
Thus, Seomun Jin-gang had intended to resolve the matter by paying a toll.
But the situation was different now.
Laughter echoed among the bandits.
The Fierce Horned Ghost approached, radiating powerful inner qi.
“Talk? Nonsense! Word is you are transporting something very valuable. Something the world has never seen before.”
Seomun Jin-gang’s brow furrowed slightly.
“A treasure? What are you talking about? We carry no such thing……”
“Lies!”
The Fierce Horned Ghost snarled.
“We already know everything! Rumors that the Seomun Caravan is moving something special have spread to the ends of Hebei! Hand it over! Or else……”
He swung his club through the air without finishing his sentence.
At the same moment, the bandits behind him drew their gleaming swords.
Shing!
Dozens of weapons flashed in an instant, surging toward the caravan.
“Maintain formation!”
With Old Nokgye’s shout, the guards armed themselves in unison.
Seomun Jin-gang did not retreat, speaking calmly instead.
“We are not transporting any valuables. The rumors are mistaken.”
Though Seomun Jin-gang spoke with composure, the Fierce Horned Ghost snorted.
“Enough wordplay. Hand it over nicely and no blood will be spilled. Delay any further and we will search every cart ourselves.”
Only then did Seomun Jin-gang draw a faint breath.
He could feel that these men were not here for simple negotiation or threats—they moved with certainty and purpose.
And no words would stop them.
This is troublesome.
The “treasure” they spoke of was undoubtedly the item commissioned by the Murim Alliance.
Given how strictly the Alliance had guarded its secrecy, it was no ordinary object.
Yet how had these men learned of something even the transporters themselves did not fully understand?
Information leaked from within. But who?
Had the Murim Alliance made a mistake?
Or was there a traitor within the caravan?
No matter how much he thought, no answer came.
And now was not the time to hunt for the culprit—the situation allowed no such luxury.
In the end, Seomun Jin-gang stopped thinking and drew his sword.
Shring!
“We do not wish to fight. But we are merchants. We must protect what needs protecting.”
When Seomun Jin-gang showed his intent to resist, the Fierce Horned Ghost’s face twisted.
“How dare you! I was going to let you leave peacefully, but you insist on seeing blood?”
The Fierce Horned Ghost raised his massive club high, as if he would show no mercy.
The enormous wooden club gleamed with blood.
It looked as though he had already beaten someone to death that very morning.
Whoosh!
The wind blew.
The campfire flames flickered, and the air of the battlefield grew sharp as it sliced through the night.
Now that things had come to this, battle was unavoidable.
The bandits’ blades all pointed toward the Seomun Caravan.
Gleaming sword light in the darkness, a suffocating silence, and the sound of someone’s tense breathing—it felt as though even that could be heard.
“This is your final warning.”
The Fierce Horned Ghost bared his teeth.
“Hand it over now and I swear on my name to let you go unharmed.”
Just then—
The man who had been sitting alone by the fire, the masked wanderer, rose quietly.
Swish.
Without a word, slowly.
His shadow stretched long behind the campfire, and as the flames flickered, the eyeholes of his steel mask glowed red.
The bandits turned their heads at once.
“Who’s that?”
“Are you with the Seomun Caravan too?”
The masked man walked forward without a word.
The hem of his black coat fluttered in the wind, and the earth beneath his feet trembled faintly.
The masked man drew his sword without speaking.
The gleaming blade reflected the moonlight, radiating a chilling aura, and in that instant……
CRACK!!!
“Graaah!!”
The Superlative master, the Fierce Horned Ghost, screamed and staggered backward.
The shock that felt as though his body would shatter lasted only a moment.
When he came to his senses, he witnessed an even more astonishing sight.
“H-How is this possible? My club……”
The steel club he had been holding was split cleanly in two.
His beloved weapon was a crude, massive club forged of steel.
So large and sturdy that no matter how powerful the strike it received, the club remained intact—while the opponent’s sword usually suffered instead.
Yet now, unbelievably, it had failed to withstand a single blow and had been severed in half.
The broken halves of the club flew through the air, gleaming, before embedding themselves in the ground.
An attack with no presence, no warning.
Even more astonishingly, the masked man did not appear to have moved so much as a single step.
The darkness deepened, and only tense breaths cut through the air.
When a single drop of sweat fell from a brow, the sound rang like thunder.
Everyone was too stunned to speak, but the masked man—or rather, Seomun Hwan disguised as a wanderer—let his eyes gleam.
Everything has gone according to plan so far.
Seomun Jin-gang’s prediction had been correct.
The Green Forest bandits had learned of the Murim Alliance’s commission and come all this way because information had leaked.
And the one who had leaked that information was……
Me.
It had all been Seomun Hwan’s doing.